Call Of The Wild
by Iron Leopard
Summary: When Clary's father dies and her brother is left with a nasty reminder, the only thing she knows is to stay away from the forest of Edom. But she feels drawn to it, even the horrible creature inside that slaughtered her father. But one night a boy stumbles in from the forest confirming their fears: a Wolf is in their midst. Rating T, might change to M.


p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"strongspan style="font-size: 14.6667px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; font-style: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; background-color: transparent;"Greetings all! I am back and better than ever. For a while now, I wanted to revamp this story because I think it has amazing potential. And so far, I'm liking where it's going. I don't own any of the TMI characters (it's been a while since I've typed that). And I promise to do them as much justice as possible. Don't forget to give me feedback because I love hearing what you guys have to say...Without further ado...Call of the Wild.../span/strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Papa, take me with you," cried the little girl, running to her father. Her red pigtails swung from side to side as her chubby five year old legs carried her to the strapping white blonde man, her father, Valentine./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Clarissa, you're too young, liebling. It isn't safe for you," he said, picking up his little girl, while she cried into his shoulder. She looked over his shoulder into the dark abyss of the forest with her leaf green eyes. The dark forest where her father, and her older brother, Jonathan, were going with the other men of the village. They were going to Wolf Hunt. Goosebumps rose on Clarissa's skin, as she looked into the black line of trees where the unnatural creatures of the night, the wolves, lingered in the dark./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Why does Jon get to go," she pouted, looking at her ten year old brother, who was off with his friends, whooping and calling./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Because he's old enough. And one day, my liebling, you'll be old enough and I promise to take you," her father tried again. Clarissa held her father close to her. Her father let her go and put her down on the ground. He went to hug her mother, Jocelyn, who in turn gripped him back, whispering sweet nothings in German in his ear. Her mother let him go and he walked away. Tears streamed down Jocelyn's face as the cart traveled away into the sunset, not knowing if she would see her husband or son again./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;" Twelve Years Later/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"strong id="docs-internal-guid-50b3bfe3-06a0-06fb-0f81-d37c02fdd67c" style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Jon, you need to eat," cried Clarissa from the second floor of the brick hut. Jonathan was cutting wood, the only physical labor he could do with his mangled leg. That was the only tell he had. Of the incident twelve years ago. Jonathan was tall and strapping like his father with light blonde hair and green eyes, the only trait he received from his mother that Clarissa shared with him./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""I'm not done chopping this, Clary," he shouted, looking up to the second window where his sister stood. Clarissa smiled at her brother and waved down at him, watching him flash her a secret smile and go back to chopping. She looked past him into the woods, where she longed to go hunt but after what happened with Jonathan, no one was allowed to go into the forest unless they were traveling. And even then, the people were terrified of the forest, especially since it killed their fearless leader, Valentine. Clarissa sighed, thinking about the forlorn look on the other men's faces. The tears that spilled down her mother's cheeks, when they came back with her mangled son and no husband. /span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Clarissa," shouted her mother from downstairs. Clarissa bounded down the wooden stairs to the kitchen where her mother was stewing some soup. Jocelyn was a short woman with dull red hair and green eyes, the same eyes both Morgenstern children shared./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Yes, Mother," asked Clarissa, pushing her chemise sleeves up to her elbows. Her mother looked at her then, giving her a reprimanding look that made Clarissa pull down her sleeves again. It isn't my fault that the chemise was itchy, she thought to herself as she came over to her mother. /span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""You'll need to help with the stew, there's a meeting tonight," said her mother, with a knowing look. Clarissa groaned. She hated the meetings, they were so boring. They sat around the fire and looked into it, asking for some type of help, whether it be a good harvest or prayers for the sick. But with another sharp look from her mother, she went back to rolling the bread that she was working on. Clarissa had a knack for baking. The only type of cooking she was able to do. /span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Why are they calling the meeting again," she asked, churning the revolting smelling stew around the pot after place the bread in the wood oven. Jocelyn shrugged and Clarissa groaned again. By the time her bread was done, Clarissa was sweating bullets from the heat of the pot and the oven. /span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Clary! You have to get ready," shouted Jocelyn, who was also sweating bullets. Her mother shooed her up the stairs. Clary, cleaned herself and grabbed her nicest dress, the only dress she wore to meetings. It was a velvet dress with dark blood like coloring. It was tighter than she remembered, she thought as she pulled it over her womanly figure. By this time, Jon had come up the stairs to get dressed. As he walked down the corridor, he saw Clary looking at herself in the mirror. She was beautiful, he thought as he remembered his little sister stumbling behind him on her stubby legs. As he changed into a more presentable choice of clothing, Jon realized that he had to beat men off with sticks. He walked by down the hall to escort his sister to the meeting. /span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Clary," said Jon. Clary looked up from her bed and brushed off her dress. Together, they hurried out the door, behind their mother, who was carrying the big pot of stew to the center of the town. It was dark by the time they arrived. It was dark in the tent, with the flames rippling up the sides of the tent. Clary's hair stood up on her arms. Lucian, Valentine's old best friend walked into the room. There were five men behind him, two of which seemed to be holding something between them. But as they passed up the aisle of the tent, Clary saw that it was not a something but a someone./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""We have been summoned here by the angels. This young man has stumbled into our camp on this day, claiming he had seen something terrifying. A wolf," said Lucian, his voice booming off the walls. There was a great murmuring in the crowd at the mentioning of wolves, "Now the forests have been cleaned of any wolves, however, this man has seen something that is bigger than an average. Something that he says killed one of his best friends. And we have reason to believe that this creature is the same creature that took our leader from us and mauled his son."/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"At the mentioning of his injury, Jon flinched but Clary was too focused on the boy, whose head was down, to listen. She couldn't see his face through the golden hair that reflected red in the flames. She stood there trying to make sense of him. Then Lucian made a booming noise with his staff. The tent was quiet. /span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Now we let the Angel Raziel decide," he said and Isabelle, a friend of Clary's, brought forth the deer. She looked reverent as she placed it into the fire with sure hands. The flames puffed blue and then back to orange. Another man came forward. Priest Hodge came to speak./span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""The Angel Raziel is reminded of the sadness of what happen to our beloved leader and believe that it is of our right to find the monster and pay it back for what it's done."/span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"br /span style="font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; background-color: transparent;"The crowd yelped at this. Crying out their pledge to Lucian, their leader, who would take down the thing that killed his brother in arms. As the crowd dissipated, heading back to the feast. Clary went to the boy. His face was bloodied but Clary could see his handsome features in the fire. He was unconscious. Clary looked at his wounds. A claw scratch to the arm, a small head wound. He would be okay. Slowly, she went to work on him. She licked a cloth and began to wipe. He moaned at the contact but she held him in place with her soft but slightly callused hands. She looked down at her handy work. He was much more handsome than he let on. He looked like an angel with his golden features that she had only seen in books. There was movement under her hand as the boy struggled to sit up, his breathing becoming a little labored. Clary stopped pressing him down but instead pulled him up. She looked down at him at the very moment his eyes opened. She gasped. Dark green meeting a beautiful gold./span/span/p 


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